


The Outfit

by rosehathaway



Series: Linstead [8]
Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: CPD 3x19, Established Relationship, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Linstead, Smut, The blink it and you'll miss it kind, post 3x19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 13:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18032285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosehathaway/pseuds/rosehathaway
Summary: Jay gets to see the outfit.





	The Outfit

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry my babes, for being so awol. I am working on it, I swear. I got the next 50tl coming up, I'm writing the penultimate chapter for Begin Again, and I've got another little drabble coming too. Plus not to mention all the AUs. Stick with me and you shall receive. 
> 
> I'd like to thank you all for the endless support. Your reviews and comments feed my soul. 
> 
> Huge thanks to Sarah for betaing this. You rock <3

There is no distance between them tonight.

Their bodies are pressed together, post-coital bliss still lingering in the air around them. The nightlight illuminates the bedroom with a soft light, making Erin feel even more content. Happy. Plastered all over him, she feels him shuffle a bit and groans with disapproval. It makes him stop moving immediately, and he chuckles when she lets out a sigh of relief.

It’s one of the good nights.

Having a moment to themselves has been rare the last couple of days. Work often gets in the way of their alone time, and Erin thinks with annoyance that maybe they let it interfere with their personal lives too much. Not only solving the sometimes-gruesome cases at work, but bringing them home, accompanied by the negative feelings that often remain in the aftermath.

But not tonight. Tonight, they tore each other’s clothes off, leaving an impressive trail from the kitchen to the bedroom, where he threw her on the bed nonchalantly. She grins at the memory. As on cue, Jay reluctantly breaks the silence.

“That’s my favourite outfit on you,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her neck or wherever he can reach in his current position.

“Shut up, you didn’t even get to see it,” she complains, not really annoyed or disappointed by the turn of events. Her body still hasn’t cooled off from the mind-blowing sex—but there was still a brand-new outfit packed in a box, and he _still_ hasn’t seen it.

“Well it’s not too late,” he tells her. A familiar gleam in his eyes has her jumping off the bed in anticipation of another round.

“No peeking!”

Fifteen minutes later, his jaw drops as she emerges, slowly walking across the room towards him.

It’s funny—she knew what his reaction would be. When she saw it at the shop and tried it on, she could picture his expression vividly. And yet it’s still priceless to actually see him. To have his eyes travel up and down her body, taking in the ruby red lingerie set that she bought specifically for him. His eyes stop at the swell of her breasts above the bra. The silky robe is tied with a sash, but hanging open, leaving nothing to imagination, but it definitely completes the outfit. At least that’s what she told herself when she saw the full price. After all, La Perla does not come cheap, but when it makes a man look at you like that…

“So?”

He swallows hard, trying not to reach for her right away. But just one look at her makes him hard again.

“Beautiful.” He curses mentally. Because beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it, and the English language isn’t rich enough to describe her the way he sees her. “Gorgeous. Breath-taking. Am a fan.”

“I thought so,” she whispers, apparently unbothered by his limited vocabulary. Her fingers fiddle with the sash and she pulls, letting him see the rest. Or the lack there-of, because the tiny piece of lace that’s covering her is barely even there.

“Another crowd-pleaser,” he confirms, and she smiles at him. Taking a tentative step forward she drags her fingers up her thigh, putting on a little show for him. It’s amazing, he thinks, that she can look shy and fierce at once. But that’s Erin—full of contradictions.

He sits back on the bed, watching the way her hands explore her own body. She lets the robe pool around her ankles before tracing the swell of her breast with a single finger.

“I get to take it off, okay?” He says with a strangled voice.

“That’s the plan.”

She steps closer to the bed, gasping when he fills his hands with her instantly.

“Maybe I won’t take it off,” he reconsiders. “Maybe I’ll fuck you wearing that.”

“Yes,” she replies, her voice already breathy.

His lips swallow hers in a scorching hot kiss that has her insides melting. His hands tug at her until she’s straddling him, granting him better access. Her hips move almost involuntarily, in search of friction. And when he moans into her mouth, she wonders how much longer he can possibly last.

It turns out she’s underestimating her boyfriend’s stamina. He grins at her wickedly, flipping her on the bed, so she’s lying on her back.

“This outfit makes me want to tie you to the bed and have my way with you.” He looks at her, careful to notice any kind of reluctance in her eyes, but she just smiles and hands something to him. It’s the sash from the robe. Delicate but strong, and so is she, lying there, demonstrating that she trusts him more than anyone else.

“Are you sure?”

“I trust you.” She nods, breathing heavily while he busies himself with tying her hands to the bedframe.

He’s so hard it hurts, but he wants to take care of her first. To bring her to the brink of madness with his touch only. Watch her eyes cloud with desire and then pleasure. Make her scream his name, and his name only.

Her skin is soft under his lips as he traces a line to her sternum. Pushing the bra down a little, he catches her nipple with his mouth, licking until it hardens. Erin’s hips buck up, her clit throbbing with need, her hands tugging, but remaining firmly tied up. He grins at her, continuing the slow attack on her most sensitive spots.

When he thinks she needs to be reminded of who’s in control, without warning, he pushes the scrap of fabric covering her to the side. A gasp escapes her when she feels the fresh air, and then another when it’s replaced by his hot mouth. It feels like heaven. Her hands smooth along her thighs, parting her legs, opening her to him.

Writhing beneath him, she’s close to begging, but something stops her. He didn’t say she can’t talk, but it feels almost a sin to break this delicious silence—this sexual tension hovering in the air between them. Instead she allows herself to let out a loud moan.

“I like you loud.” He pauses to tell her this, and she lets out a frustrated groan instead. “Not what I meant. Are you gonna be good?”

She nods.

He returns his tongue, flicking faster than before.

She’s already on the edge of another orgasm, and he makes her ride it—makes her squirm. Her entire body tingles with need, with desperate need to reach it, but he takes her close and backs her away.

“Please.”

“Not yet.”

He replaces his tongue with his finger, plunging it deep inside her and curling it until he hits _the_ spot—the spot he knows will drive her mad. He coaxes pleasure from her that she’s never known before—her entire body quivering and arching to give him better access.

Jay is the only man who has ever gotten to know her body well enough to keep her in that beautiful place of torture, wanting the feeling of arousal to last longer, but desperate to feel the release she knows is coming. He doesn’t give her much of a choice, pushing her over with another move of his finger, delighted when she actually screams his name.

But it’s not enough. It will never be enough.

So with skilled fingers he unties the knot on the satin fabric that barely survived their game. She falls into his arms, trembling, wrapping her arms around him to hold him as close as she can.

Their lips meet in a vulnerable kiss before she lowers herself down, offering some relief to him as well.

“I love having you like this,” he admits with a moan, thrusting his hips up to meet hers. The position is intimate—it allows him to hold her, to watch her fall apart in his arms. To have her nails leave bloody trails on his back that he wears as a badge of honour.

“I love…” He tenses, and then feels her shiver.

He might never know what she was going to say, and he isn’t going to ask, but still, for a moment he dares to dream that the moment she’ll say those three words to him might not be that far away.

The same three words that he whispers against her minutes later, when she’s sound asleep and he drags the covers over her for the second time that night.


End file.
